


anchors at your fingertips

by birdybirdnerd



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Anchors, Friendship, Gen, Post-Apocalypse, look im weak for jon and daisy being unlikely friends at the end of the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:27:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22457953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdybirdnerd/pseuds/birdybirdnerd
Summary: jon and daisy find each other in the buried, then again at the end of it allbased on a post by @titanfalling on tumblr
Relationships: Jonathan Sims & Alice "Daisy" Tonner
Comments: 6
Kudos: 101





	anchors at your fingertips

**Author's Note:**

> i am WEAK for this shit yall anyways go blame titanfalling for this. posted it on tumblr first then weeks later remembered i had yet to do it here so uhhh yeah

All they manage to reach in the Buried is their fingertips, for the longest time. 

Jon had followed Daisy's voice, Looked for her even as he strained to keep himself sane, kept part of himself anchored in the surface world through the pieces of himself he left behind. But even once he found her, it was too late for anything more than reaching, grasping, finally managing to link nothing but their little fingers. Jon would've laughed if he had room enough to take a full breath. 

They stayed that way, unable to see each other, not wanting to risk speaking too much lest they fill their lungs with the cursed dirt. But that one point of contact, they each held like a lifeline. They were trapped here, and eternity is a very long time. Neither pretended it was much, but it was enough, God, it would have to be enough. 

* * *

When they were out, before everything fell apart, they found themselves linking fingers together occasionally. It was too little to be properly called hand-holding, but just enough to keep each other grounded. When everything became too much; when the statements and the mystery clawed at Jon's mind, when the feeling of choking down dirt and crushing pressure laid heavily on Daisy's shoulders, when the nightmares had them both jumping at shadows even during the brightest days- they had each other. No judgement, no animosity. _I'm here,_ it said. Just a tiny point of contact, familiar, grounding. _I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. Stay with me_. 

At some point, days before the world ends, neither of them know what's coming. It's all become too much. That little point of contact is still there, still helps, but one night Jon gives in and drinks a little too much and Daisy was keeping him company in his office while he did so and he might have convinced her to indulge a little as well, and no one knows who suggested it first but they stumble their way to some out of the way little shop down the street and wake up with matching magnolia branches wrapped around their little fingers. 

Jon is a bit disgruntled at first, but he can admit the stylized flowers are rather lovely. It's Daisy that tells him, quiet-like, their meaning, and all at once Jon's heart breaks again and again and they fall into each other, holding on, linking their fingers to ground each other even though the skin is still raw and freshly-inked. 

* * *

And then it's the end of the world all over again, and Jon and Martin are on the run and Jon can't stop Seeing everything, even though it hurts, it all hurts so much his brain is splitting apart and his eyes burn with the need to Know, and- 

And they've made their way back to London, where Basira called them in a panic, voice cutting in and out on the phone lines that are about to fall completely. They meet up with her, bleeding, terrified, and Jon can see the taint of the Hunt about her and the touch of Beholding and he thinks _Mine_ and that's a worry for another day because she's telling them something important, saying that she's being tracked and- 

And a soul-wrenching growl pulls them out of their conversation, startling them into awareness. A great, towering monster looms over them, slavering jaws dripping red-tinted spit, joints all wrong, teeth like serrated knives and yellow eyes slitted. And Basira and Martin shout, retreat, pull at Jon's arm because _it's the Hunt, it's a Hunter Jon we need to run_ but Jon can See and he knows this is probably suicide but the magnolia on his pinky finger burns for the first time in months. 

He steps forward towards the beast, heedless of his friend and his love's cries. He raised his hand towards the beast, who snarls at him and slashes. It's claws catch his jacket, but- he didn't move. It could have eviscerated him. It was holding back, for some reason it didn't know, if the confusion in its sickly yellow eyes was any indication. But Jon Knows, and he reaches out towards one great paw. 

"Daisy," he murmurs, and links his little finger with hers. He can't see the mark through the shaggy fur and claws, but he Knows it's there. No, he just _knows._ It anchors them together, he can feel the surety of it thrumming through him even though so much is still unknown. He knows _this._

She looks back up at him, and- there she is. 

"Jon," she chokes, blinking back tears. _"Jon."_

"It's okay, Daisy," he says, pulling her into a hug. Basira and Martin cry out again behind him, for a different reason, and he feels their arms join his in encircling Daisy in warmth and love and safety. 

"I'm here." 


End file.
